The Devil's Temptress: The Curse of the Black Pearl || Book 1

III. Ritual

The rest of the time it took to get to the Isle De Muerta was a blur. The days seemed to drag on into years, the wind nor tide never on their side. Time spent in her own cabin was plagued with the presence of the girl, yet when she was at the helm Nicolette would grow impatient and frustrated. Each crew member grated on her every nerve and as for Hector; his whereabouts on board was decreasingly regular. Whether he was spending time with the young Turner lass or simply staying out of reach from his wife's wrath, she didn't know, but it was an increasing worry as well as a growing agitation.

However, finally, the fog grew thicker and the rocky shores of the hidden land appeared. The murmurs started in the lower decks of the ship but soon grew and with long obvious glares towards Elizabeth, the crew sniggered. The hunger for life was visible in their eyes, sparkling ever so slightly at the mere thought of touch and sense. And of course, Nicolette was no different which was why her grip on the girl as they guided her from the longboats was tighter than what was necessarily needed.

"Ten years of hoarding swag." Ahead of her, Pintel and Ragetti were positively giddy.

"And now we finally get to spend it." As Nicolette's boot landed heavily next to the ladies' clothing they had just turned out onto the filthy ground, her eyes rolled.

"Once we're quit of the curse, we'll be rich men. And you can buy an eye what actually fits and is made of glass." For once the men ignored her close presence as she waited for the chest ahead of them to be hoisted up the mound of gold.

"This one does splinter something terrible." Ragetti rubbed the wooden eye which had spent more time on deck than in his skull.

"Stop rubbing it."

Before her ghostly insides turned and her own eyes started to itch, Nicolette squirmed, her face twitching, and she shoved Elizabeth forward. The girl gasped as she worked to steady herself and looked sharply at the woman who was given the responsibility of keeping an eye on her.

"What are you going to do?" Elizabeth asked in a panic, to which Nicolette narrowed her eyes.

"Best it be a surprise...less haunting that way." The coins on the gypsy skirt she wore tied around her waist chimed faintly in time with her chuckling as she watched the colour drain from Miss Turner's face. She could recall each time a man of the Navy had spoken the same words to her in means of taunting, all aimed at making her own mind be the near death of her.

Burned alive, hung, drowned...all horribly evil things that were perfectly likely. But it made those last few minutes pure living hell. The poor girl.

Nicolette smirked again, holding the girl's arm firmly as they walked to the front of the gathering crowd to stand behind the chest where her husband already awaited.

"Miss Turner..." Barbossa trailed off, the infamous long smile already showing.

He was being unnecessarily kind towards her, overly calm and in some ways almost caring. It enraged Nicolette, not with jealousy but something else because she knew the little part of Barbossa which still didn't trust his wife, and the part which still dedicated a special white hot burning anger for her, was doing it on purpose.

But then again, it was that part of him and the memory of how strong and independent she had once been, that reminded her of why she had needed to be forced into the marriage. Why a part of her, the rational untainted part, hadn't learnt to love him.

———————————————————————————————-

Only a few yards away, a boat slowly crept into the cave, along the narrow passageways of the Island. Inside, two men sat; one rowing and one playing lookout although he seemed to have already been enraptured by the treasure. The sunken gold reflected onto his lightly tanned face through the clear waters.